


The Dance

by der_tanzer



Category: The Losers (2010)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-10
Updated: 2011-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-14 15:35:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cougar has a job to do and self-control is key.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dance

The sun beat down on the rooftop, oppressively hot, and Cougar was already sweating as he burst through the door and ran across to the retaining wall. He gripped the concrete with one hand and threw himself over, landing in a four-point crouch on the next roof, tucking and rolling and coming up running again. This roof had a retaining wall, too, but it also had a massive heat pump that would give him an excellent view of the action on the street below. He climbed up on top of the housing, unslung his rifle, and dropped down flat. Instantly, his breathing went from panting gasps to a slow and steady rhythm, so shallow that he was lightheaded for a second, his body crying out for more oxygen than he could afford to draw.

He concentrated on his heart rate as he locked the tripod, forcing it to slow so he could squeeze off a shot between beats. That was the hard part, the part that had taken the longest to master during training. He closed his eyes, took a single slow, deep breath, and felt his heart leap before settling into the rhythm he needed.

It was all about rhythm, his body’s systems working together in a dance of ebb and flow, and when the target came into his sight, everything else fell into place. He no longer felt the heat, or the sweat trickling down his back. Every inch of his skin was covered so the sun couldn’t burn him, his face lost in the deep shadow under his hat, but he had control of his body temperature now, too. He could have held his position all day, barely breathing, counting his ever-slowing heartbeats, unaware of hunger or thirst or fear.

But the eternity that stretched out before him was less than three minutes long. Clay gave the signal and Cougar stopped breathing. His heart beat once, pulsing in his scope, and then he pulled the trigger. By the time it beat again, the target was down and Pooch was swooping in with a car to collect the boss. Cougar rolled off the heat pump housing, stowed his heavy rifle, and was running across the roof almost before his heart caught up.

Now it was hot under his coat and scarf. Now he was panting, sweat dripping into his eyes, and if he hadn’t been wearing gloves he’d have been sure to slip as he vaulted over the iron rail that topped the retaining wall. He tucked and rolled again, growing tired now, but his boots still flew across the roof. The west side of this building had a fire escape and he clambered down three stories, hitting the ground just as Pooch came skidding around the corner. Jensen flung the back door open and he leapt in before the car came to a complete stop.

Everyone was talking around him, congratulatory chatter mixed with Pooch’s asking directions and Jensen’s guiding him around traffic with his satellite nav. But Cougar was focused entirely on resting now, breathing hard and letting his heart race as much as it liked. Someone handed him a water bottle and he drank deeply, not stopping until it was empty.

“Jeez, Coug, anyone who didn't know better would think your job was _hard_ or something,” Roque said from the front seat.

Cougar gave him the finger and settled back in his corner, pulling his hat down over his eyes. His heartbeat had slowed again, his breathing was steady, and everything was A-1-A. All systems were in order, ready for the next dance.


End file.
